


I Will Wait Forever

by LitMech (PatrioticFrisbee)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Older Work, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatrioticFrisbee/pseuds/LitMech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's only a chess game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Wait Forever

The clock was still ticking, loud and jarring with every passing, audible second. Charles contemplated taking the grandfather clock out onto a balcony and tipping it across the banister there; leaning on the smooth marble or brass, depending on which balcony, and watching it fall. He could almost see it in his mind's eye, the way it would roll in the air. Spinning, twisting to face the earth as it collided in an explosion of weights and springs, cogs and wheels and wood. It would make a sound quite like one slamming the mouth of a piano closed. That bizarre, metallic discord when many brass and steal pieces knock together at once within a wooden body before it splits open and spills itself upon the shrubbery.

Erik is still staring at him, unmoving as the rest of the furniture, with the martini pressed to his lips. Idly, Charles wonders if he's accidently caught and stilled him; a beautifully frozen time piece, of angles sharper than any clock. But, then of course, Erik blinks, and Charles wonders for the umpteenth time whose turn it is to move. Somewhere in his mind, he thinks to ask. To set his scotch down on the corner of the table they're set up around, lean forward and simply inquire whether it's his turn or not. Is that why you're staring at me, Erik? He doesn't of course, of course not, because he knows far too well why neither of them is moving. Why Erik has sat with the curve of his glass against his lip, why Charles is fingering the damp glass he holds between his knees. They're waiting on each other. Charles thinks they will wait forever. The two of them, like a river meeting a stone. Both powerful, both stubborn, immovable in a way neither can comprehend but it quite obviously doesn't keep them from trying. However, thinks Charles, the stone will erode away with time. Which of them is the stone, he wonders.

After they spend centuries in a moment, Erik lays his glass to the wayside and slips a bishop three spaces. The slow drawl of 'Checkmate' hangs between them, and the clock ticks on.


End file.
